The current profusion of form critical studies of the Pauline letter received its impetus from the work of Paul Schubert on the thanksgiving section.1 Suggestions were made earlier, especially by Martin Dibelius,2 but they remained largely unheeded. Also Schubert's work did not receive an immediate response, but now work is fully under way.3

‘New Testament studies’, as most of us learned the discipline, depends on some fundamental assumptions: that scientific history leads us toward objective, secure knowledge of the past; that careful method can unlock the real meaning of a stable text; that we have an audience who genuinely care what we say. Every one of these assumptions has become problematic. For the future, we must not give up on historical research, but we must think more urgently about what it means to write history well. In our role as teachers of Christian communities, we need to examine ways in which texts are used, rediscovering the formative uses in place of an almost exclusive stress by ‘biblical theology’ on the normative. Finally, acknowledging the demise of Christendom, we must seek to engage an ever larger circle of discussion partners, seeking to overcome our isolation within the academy and within a world that has grown rapidly more diverse even as it has become astonishingly smaller.

The role of the mother of Jesus is explored in view of ancient constructions of paternity especially as expressed in the Aristotelian theory of epigenesis. It concludes that beyond framing Jesus' life in the flesh, she is present under the cross as his kin in a group uniquely composed of family and friends together. As Jesus entrusts her and the beloved disciple to each other, a process is begun whereby a familia dei comes into being – in which the matter provided by the mother is superfluous. These children are begotten/born from above ‘not of blood(s) or of the will of flesh or of the will of man but of God’ – alone.

In NTS 62.3 (July 2016) David Horrell argued that certain passages in 1 Corinthians 7 and 1 Peter 3 showed ‘ethnicising’ traits among the early Christians. He set this result against an alleged trend in scholarship that would distinguish and disparage a closed ethnic Judaism in relation to a new spiritual-universal Christianity. The present authors’ work was proffered as representative of this trend, even though no evidence was cited for such a connection and their work moves in a very different direction. Leaving aside Horrell's interpretation of the New Testament passages for reasons of space, this article takes up the larger question of Judaean and Christ-movement identities by reconsidering the position of Ioudaioi and Christ-followers in the early Roman Empire. Using different but convergent (social-scientific and historical-philological) methods, we find that ethnos-language was everywhere applied to the Judaeans, that this reflected normalcy and exchange with the world, and that Judaeans thus met the criteria of an ethnic group. Early Christians had no such recognised place. Their voluntary associations largely rejected ethnos- and polis-commitment or identity. Neither Judaean openness to the world nor Christian alienation supports the position that Horrell attributes to us.

The importance of the quotation of Isa 54.1 in Gal 4.27 for understanding Paul's allegorical reading of the story of Sarah and Hagar (Gen 16–21) in Gal 4.21–5.1 has often been underestimated. Paul uses this quotation to give his interpretation of this story an eschatological dimension that, unlike the eschatology of Second Isaiah, is both profoundly christological and apocalyptic.

Erastus (Rom 16.23) has featured prominently in the ongoing debate over the social and economic make-up of the early Pauline communities, since how one renders his title (ὁ οἰκονόμος τῆς πόλεως) dramatically affects the range of economic stratification represented in the Corinthian church. Relying chiefly on epigraphy, including an important new inscription from the Achaean colony of Patras, this article engages the scholarly dialogue about the Latin equivalent of Erastus' title, rebutting the arguments in favour of arcarius and aedilis, and contends that he served as quaestor, a high-ranking municipal position exclusively occupied by the economic elite.

The Apocalypse is not a random jumble of ‘prophecies’: it shows clear evidence of ordering. The problem, however, is to know on what principles the ordering has been done, and which principle has been dominant or primary, and which less influential. For example, the Seven Letters, Seals, Trumpets and Bowls seem at first sight to dominate the book; but then every commentator has some embarrassment in explaining the intrusions of chs 7 and 10–11, let alone the second half of the book. Even then, we need an explanation of the symbolism of the seals, trumpets and bowls, which is in no obvious sense given: so, on their own, the four Sevens are only a partial answer to the question.

In recent years a number of tests of authorship have been developed. Such tests are based on the examination of some habit, generally one which embodies the result of a choice frequently confronting any author in his composition. The test described in this paper is based upon the habit of placing, as the last word in a sentence, different classes of words.

The fundamental outlook in what follows is that there is a fairly consistent, compact, yet expanding and developing promise tradition which is founded on the promises to David (and his descendants) in the Hebrew Scriptures; that this tradition in certain ways has been rejuvenated and strengthened in the early Christian period; and that it enters Christianity in connection with the application of these promises to Jesus' resurrection apart from the title Son of David itself, a title whose acceptance and adaptation in early Christianity appears on both historical and redaction critical grounds to be relatively late. The hypothesis is not totally new. My intention will be to put some older information into what will hopefully be an illuminating perspective, to draw out some implications from the perspective itself, and to nail down the hypothesis of the use of Old Testament texts in connection with the resurrection of Jesus a little tighter. I have not undertaken here to trace out a history of tradition in the New Testament such as can now be found in C. Burger's excellent study, Jesus als Davidssohn, though the direction of the paper will support the legitimacy of his starting point in early Christian formulae.

I hope that no apology is necessary for the choice of a subject so closely akin to that of the Presidential Address by Professor William Manson last year.1 It was in fact that address which inspired the present paper. If any further justification is necessary for reverting to this theme I would remind you that a presidential address is by use and wont exempt from criticism, so that last year there was no opportunity for the discussion of a subject which should surely invite lively debate. Moreover, though Dr Manson in his address made occasional reference to Paul's thought, he deliberately confined himself in the main to the ‘Spiritual Background of the Work of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels’. Such promising exploration deserves to be followed up, for it is only with Paul that this background is filled in, in all its tremendous cosmic grandeur. As Dr Manson put it, the spirit world in Paul's thought ‘has taken on new dimensions and acquired a cosmic range and character’. Or again, whereas last year we were meeting the demonic powers ‘in the form of malignant and ghoulish beings, on the earth-level of popular demonic belief’, this year we are confronted by Paul's ‘grandiose hierarchy of cosmic spirits’. But my best justification is the sheer importance of this subject for the understanding of Paul's thought. As Professor J. S. Stewart has remarked in a notable article in the Scottish Journal of Theology (vol. IV, no. 3), we shall never get inside the mind of Paul until we take seriously what has in fact been ‘a neglected emphasis in New Testament Theology’, and cease to treat ‘as secondary and extraneous elements in the primitive Christian proclamation what in fact are integral and basic components of the Gospel’.

In the continuing discussion of the possible role of Christian prophets in the formation of the tradition of the words of Jesus, reference continues to be made to the relevance or irrelevance of the words of the exalted Christ transmitted by the prophet John in the Apocalypse. They remain the only un-disputed example from the first century of prophetic utterances made in the name of Christ in the first person, and for advocates of the creative activity of the Christian prophets they are therefore invaluable evidence that such utterances could be made. Their use as evidence for the role of prophecy in the formation of the Synoptic tradition involves, admittedly, additional assumptions not easily demonstrable. We must suppose that John's prophecy is typical of the content of early Christian prophecy in general, and also that this late first-century work is faithfully representative of the earlier prophets whom alone we can suppose to have been responsible for originating logia which actually entered the Synoptic tradition. The uniqueness of John's prophetic status vis-à-vis that of the church prophets has been cogently argued by D. Hill, and it seems that at least we cannot infer otherwise un-attested characteristics of early Christian prophecy in general from the contents of the Apocalypse alone. In any case the Apocalypse is surely untypical in being a lengthy and closely integrated literary composition, with its own distinctive stylistic traits. Partly for this reason the words of Christ reported in it are for the most part quite unsuitable for transference to the lips of the Jesus of the Synoptic tradition, at least without substantial adaptation.

The genre of 1 Cor 13 remains a problem, despite nearly universal agreement on the structure of the chapter. Eleven different genres have been proposed.Yet, as D. A. Carson has noted, only two of those options, hymn and paraenesis, have attracted much scholarly backing.

An vier Stellen der Apostelgeschichte des Lukas (Apg 23. 6; 24. 15 f.; 26. 6 f.; 28. 20) beteuert der angeklagte Apostel Paulus, daß er nur ‘wegen der Hoffnung Israels’ vor Gericht stehe. Wie ist diese Beteuerung zu verstehen? Was besagt sie im Kontext der erzählten Handlung? Und was bedeutet sie für den Erzähler Lukas und für die Leser seines Werkes? – Eine Klärung dieser Fragen ist exegetisch geboten; denn die auffällige Wieder-holung ist ja als schriftstellerischer Hinweis auf die Wichtigkeit der Sache zu werten.

Although St Paul had no disciples, on μαθηραι, he did have many associates. These persons present something of a puzzle to the student of Christian origins, both in the titles and functions that are ascribed to them and, more generally, in the precise relationship that had to Paul. A clarification of their role may serve to illuminate the structure of the early Christian mission as well as a number of problems within the Pauline letters.